


The Path Goes Ever On And On

by JayofOlympus



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Aiden and his rag-tag group of survivors, Aiden ends up in charge, Aiden gets weepy over food seasonings, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Lambert gets an eyepatch, M/M, he doesn't know why, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayofOlympus/pseuds/JayofOlympus
Summary: Aiden tread quietly, wary of the stillness. It wasn’t the first abandoned town the group had come across on their journey, but all the others had shown signs of violence. They’d been abandoned in a hurry, with death and destruction all that was left.This town was simply empty. The houses were untouched, and belongings had been packed up and carried away with care. People hadn’t been chased from their homes here, but they had left all the same.The path to Kaer Morhen was a long one, but Aiden was determined.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Gaetan/Letho z Gulety | Letho of Gulet
Comments: 22
Kudos: 82





	The Path Goes Ever On And On

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks, as always, to Ali for betaing, and for listening to me rambling about it while on my lunch breaks.
> 
> [Edit] Now available in podfic form, because Ali is the absolute best.

Aiden tread quietly, wary of the stillness. It wasn’t the first abandoned town the group had come across on their journey, but all the others had shown signs of violence. They’d been abandoned in a hurry, with death and destruction all that was left.

This town was simply empty. The houses were untouched, and belongings had been packed up and carried away with care. People hadn’t been chased from their homes here, but they had left all the same.

There was nothing out of place. No death, or blood, or creatures that did not belong.

A single page was pinned to the notice board. The writing was clear, without the looping scrawl Aiden might have expected. Whoever had written it had intended for anyone who was capable of reading to understand it.

He motioned for Kal to keep watching for movement. The human warrior had been among the original group that had begged Aiden for protection on their journey North. They’d been lured by rumours of safe haven in Kaedwen, and the group had slowly grown as they travelled. Always, the rumours saying that they need only travel further North to find safety.

Aiden still wasn’t sure he believed the rumours. The surge in Chaos had left the Continent a bloody mess; monsters and magic destroying everything in their path. Aiden didn’t believe there was a single safe haven left.

But he’d been going North anyway. He had to. He had to _know_. He had to see for himself what was left.

He took the notice, trusting that his ears and nose would be enough to warn him if anything were to attack.

 _’To any who pass here,’_ the notice began, _’Do not fear for those of us who once resided in this place. No harm or tragedy has befallen us. We have gone North, into the mountains, where Witchers roam. They offer us sanctuary from the creatures that have beset the Continent. If you have need, then take of what we have left behind, and allow it to be of use. If you seek shelter, then allow our homes to protect you from the elements. If you seek safety, then join us in Morhen Valley. The travel will be long, and there will be many dangers, but the Witchers there guard us from monsters.’_

Something in Aiden’s chest clenched as he read the words printed neatly on the page. The Wolves were taking refugees into their keep. There were still Witchers in the mountains.

Lambert could be one of them.

“What happened here?” Kal asked, her eyes still scanning their surroundings.

“They left,” Aiden said, carefully pinning the notice back onto the board. It wouldn’t do for another group to miss it on their way through. “We’ll stay here tonight; take stock and rest up.”

He motioned for her to follow him back to where the rest of their party waited, hidden in the trees.

Too many eyes turned to him when they returned, and Aiden had to remind himself that he had chosen this. He had chosen to lead them North; chosen to let these people continue to look to him for guidance.

Letho could easily have taken charge when he had found them, but for some reason he’d been content to sit back and watch, the bastard. Junod, on the other hand, was far too new. He’d found them a scant few months ago, long after Aiden’s position had been cemented.

“Well?” Kal’s brother, Wiktor, prompted. “Is it safe?”

Aiden shrugged. “As safe as it can be,” he said. “Town’s empty. Everyone went North, to the Wolves.”

“‘Course those fuckers lived,” Letho said with a scoff.

Aiden shrugged again. There had been no indication of how many Witchers were in the mountains, and certainly no mention of their names. He’d been assuming when he’d said it was the Wolves, but he doubted any others would have gone to Kaer Morhen and stayed if the Wolves were all gone. Didn’t mean he was stupid enough to believe they’d _all_ made it.

He kept his doubts to himself as they all settled into the alderman’s house. It was cramped, with the number of people in their party, but warm and dry.

Junod led Kal, Wiktor, and three others out into the town to look for useful supplies. Based on the amount of dust in the alderman’s house, Aiden doubted they’d find any food worth taking, but they still had more than two weeks to travel before they would reach Kaer Morhen.

They’d been travelling for so long now that Aiden was almost afraid to reach the end of their path. His Path, the one all Witchers walked, had only gotten longer and more dangerous since that calamitous event two full years ago. But the path he walked with these refugees, gone from eight humans to fifty-four, including three elves, was quickly nearing its close. At the end of this road, his question would be answered, for better or worse.

Part of him wanted to slink away into the night; leave Letho and Junod to lead them up the mountain. He wasn’t ready to know. Wasn’t ready to find an empty space where Lambert should be.

He ruthlessly smothered the urge to run. He’d come this far, and these people trusted him to see them to safety. Aiden knew that he was many things, but he refused to be a coward. Not in this.

Restless, he set about helping to distribute food. He’d have to take a party out foraging before they left town. They couldn’t survive on rabbits and deer alone, but they were running low on everything else.

Junod returned with the others while he was worrying it over in his mind.

“Got some arrows,” Wiktor reported, holding up three full quivers. He was a master of the longbow, and had made himself useful in more than one monster attack, and arrows might not have been the most precious resource, they were certainly appreciated. “Two bows, as well. Not the finest quality, but they’ll do for hunting.”

“Unless we’re planning to arm ourselves with kitchenware, there’s little else in the way of weapons,” Kal added, arms folded across her chest. “Pitchforks, a couple broken spears, and some knives. Nothing really worth the taking.”

Aiden nodded. Most of their party wore knives at their belts already, and took good care of their blades under the careful instruction of the three Witchers.

“Anything else of use?” he asked, looking to the others.

They’d turned up some blankets, bandages, spare clothing, and most importantly, herbs. Both medicinal, and seasonings. Aiden could have wept with joy. He didn’t, but it was a near thing.

The Witchers could survive on very little. They could eat raw game, if the situation demanded it. But to be able to add seasonings to their food would lift everyone’s spirits, moreso even than having a definitive destination beyond the nebulous concept of ‘North’ that they’d been striving for so far.

“One last thing,” Junod said, motioning for Aiden to follow him.

He was led to a barn nearby, his medallion beginning to hum against his sternum. The closer they got to the building, the more violently it vibrated.

“Didn’t open it yet,” Junod explained. “Didn’t want to set anything off with the others so close.”

Aiden nodded, drawing his sword. “Do it.”

The door swung open easily, not even a single creak to the hinges. Nothing moved.

Aiden took a step closer, Junod close behind. Still, the barn was silent. No shadows moved to indicate life.

Stepping inside, Aiden had to fight off the urge to weep once more, taking in the piles of untouched food. Bread, and vegetables, and jars of honey and preserves. Cured meats, and oats, and feed for more horses than their party had ever owned.

Junod’s large hand fell on his shoulder, shaking him from his daze.

“There’s more than we need here,” the Bear said.

Aiden nodded dumbly. “We’ll… We’ll leave some for the next lot that passes through.”

A small note sat atop a milking stool, unobtrusive, and yet somehow drawing his eye. This note was written in the flowing script that had been missing from the notice on the board.

_’I do not know how long it has been since we evacuated the town, but know that the food you find here is safe for consumption. So long as it remains in this barn, it will not spoil. What is here is that which could not be carried when we left, and it was our hope that what remained could help any who followed behind.’_

“We’ll not have to worry about food on the mountain,” Junod said, taking careful stock of what was there.

They wouldn’t need to worry about food for nearly a month. Even if they got waylaid along the road, they would have enough food to see them to Kaer Morhen.

He made sure to pull Letho aside after setting watches that night.

“If they have sorcerers up the mountain, it’s likely Yennefer,” he said, watching Letho carefully for a reaction. “Means we can probably assume Geralt’s there. I know there’s bad blood between you.”

Letho scoffed. “I can play nice, kitty,” he said. “Wasn’t like I _didn’t_ expect Geralt of fucking Rivia to make it.”

That was… fair, Aiden could admit. Geralt seemed untouchable at times. Dragged headfirst through the most insane shit the Continent had to offer, and coming through the other side no worse off than before.

* * *

The next two weeks were agony for Aiden, not least because they were given cause to use their newfound medical supplies a scant four days after moving on from the abandoned town.

The group had been set upon by a flock of wyverns, and Aiden had taken some nasty hits covering Kal’s back.

The flocks were bigger these days. The _wyverns_ were bigger. And potions were scarce, which left Aiden waving off any he was offered, choosing to heal the old fashioned way. Which hurt. A lot more than he was willing to let on.

The pain kept him distracted from his thoughts, at least. There were only so many times his mind could spiral over the thought of Lambert being dead when they made it up the mountain before he lost his mind, and being a Cat, Aiden was already teetering far closer to madness than most.

It was better to focus his attention on hiding his aches from the others, and keeping them all on the right path. That way he didn’t have to devote his attention to making a plan to get back _off_ the mountain if Lambert wasn’t there.

What little attention he had to spare went to keeping his mouth _shut_ when Letho and Junod both got roped into carrying some of the children for large stretches of the journey. Two massive, imposing Witchers, one of them the infamous Kingslayer, relegated to the role of mules because the children were tired, and the horses overworked. He didn’t dare laugh for fear of Letho putting the children down to wring his neck. Best let him keep his hands full.

* * *

The day they were set to reach the keep saw everyone in their party in strange spirits. There was a sense of anticipation as they all waited to see what would greet them there, whether it be the safety they had been chasing these past two years, or just more tired, gaunt refugees, huddling together in a crumbling ruin.

Aiden hadn’t seen Kaer Morhen in years. It had been five since he’d last seen Lambert, and his Wolf had rarely invited him to winter in the keep. They hadn’t felt the need to cling together at all times. Wintering together often felt too intimate for what they had, and so Aiden had last seen the half-ruined keep near two decades ago. He had no more idea than anyone else what to expect when they arrived.

What greeted them looked nothing like the Kaer Morhen of Aiden’s memory. The walls still crumbled in places, but fewer than before, and scaffolding was erected along some of the broken sections.

He could hear the sound of people and animals going about their days; talking, and laughing, and working. It sounded no different than any bustling town, and Aiden could only gape as he stepped through the gate.

Three figures strode forward to greet them, looking intent. Eskel, the sorceress, and Geralt’s pup.

“Well, this is certainly a strange sight,” the sorceress said, her lips twitching in amusement as she eyed the way one of the children was hanging off Letho’s arm, half hiding behind the behemoth.

“Let’s get you all inside, get some food in you before we talk,” Eskel suggested, looking far less amused by Letho.

Aiden had been half sure Letho meeting the Wolves again would end in bloodshed, so he took the lack of immediate violence as a victory, and followed Eskel inside.

When the Witchers had passed off their charges to the humans that seemed to be keeping Kaer Morhen running, Eskel led them toward an office.

The door opened, and before he could blink, Aiden found his arms full, Cedric and Axel grabbing tightly onto him and nuzzling under his chin. His brothers, safe and alive, in Kaer Morhen.

He couldn’t breathe.

Cedric and Axel were _there_. And so was Geralt, and his bard. And that was _Gaetan_ flinging himself across the room. At Letho.

Aiden had just enough time to wonder how, exactly, he was meant to put a stop to whatever bloodshed came next before Letho caught Gaetan in his arms, cradling him close with the most dumbstruck expression Aiden had ever seen.

Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Three Cats, all alive and healthy, with only a handful of new scars visible between them, in the Wolf den, and one of them clinging to a Viper like the bastard was something more precious than gold.

Part of him wanted to laugh, because Letho trying to throttle him would keep Aiden from dwelling on those missing. The old Wolf wasn’t there. No other Vipers, or Bears. Not even the Griffin that Aiden knew sometimes wintered in the keep.

He kept his mouth shut.

“How did you come to be travelling with such a large number of people?” Eskel asked, once the reunions had settled.

Aiden shrugged. “I was down in the South, trying to keep out of Nilfgaard’s notice, when it all happened,” he said. “Then Nilfgaard was the least of anyone’s worries.”

In the immediate aftermath, he’d been concerned that he’d have to hide from Nilfgaard whilst also fighting the new influx of monsters, but it had become increasingly apparent that Nilfgaard was no longer a problem. It had been rumoured that Nilfgaard no longer _existed_ , though that much seemed unlikely.

“I ran into a small group of refugees when I turned North,” he continued. “They said they’d heard it was safe further North, and asked me to guard them on the way. We’ve spent the past two years being told there was a safe haven just a little further North.”

“And the others?” Geralt prompted, ignoring Letho’s presence entirely, which was at least preferable to the bloodbath Aiden had pictured when he’d imagined this moment.

“Crossed paths with Letho a little under a year into the journey,” Aiden explained. “Said he’d heard stories about a Cat with a growing collection of people, all heading North. I’m starting to suspect he was hoping for someone else.”

Letho growled at him, but Gaetan just laughed, tucked under one of the Viper’s massive arms.

“I met them by chance,” Junod offered. “Heard a fight; helped them out.”

Geralt nodded, looking at Aiden as though expecting him to say something more.

“We came through a town, two weeks back, with a note saying everyone had come here,” he said, though he was sure Geralt didn’t really care about that. “The trick with the food in the barn saved us a lot of hassle.”

There was silence for a moment before the bard piped up, cheerful and smiling.

“Well, now that we’re all caught up, I’m sure you’re positively _famished_ ,” he said, leaping to his feet. “The three of you should eat while we wait for the others to return. I’m sure Vesemir won’t be much longer at the walls, at the very least.”

It was an obvious dismissal, but before Aiden could turn for the door again, he heard boots on the stone floor, quiet even in their hurry in a way only a Witcher could achieve.

“ _Aiden_ ,” an all too familiar voice breathed, and Aiden almost couldn’t bring himself to turn and face him.

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath, and let his body move for him.

“Lambert,” he choked out.

His Wolf looked much the same as he ever did, with one glaring difference.

“Your eye,” Aiden said, his voice trembling almost as much as his fingers as he reached out to brush lightly over the strap that held the patch in place over Lambert’s left eye.

Lambert gave him a savage grin, and his heart skipped a beat. “Some fucking big bird got me,” he said, never losing that grin, and Aiden could perfectly picture that same smile as he fought the thing, with blood in his teeth. “I kept its head; stuffed it. Vesemir’s calling it a roc.”

Aiden couldn’t help himself. He hauled Lambert in close, and kissed him hard.

“You’re a mad bastard, you know that?” he said, hands still clutching Lambert’s armour.

Lambert laughed, shaking his head. “You’re the mad bastard getting horny over it,” he countered.

Aiden couldn’t think of a single compelling argument to that, so he just kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I pitched this fic to Ali as "just a really elaborate vehicle for a dramatic Laiden reunion", and I think it definitely lives up to that.
> 
> Again, thank you Ali for putting up with my strange desire to give Lambert an eyepatch.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Path Goes Ever On and On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780581) by [FrenchKey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchKey/pseuds/FrenchKey)




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